


You Can't Help Everyone

by Huntera



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), F/M, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Rape/Non-con Elements, Swearing, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:00:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29481843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntera/pseuds/Huntera
Summary: All Connor wants is a normal life. He's doing pretty good so far, so he shares the news with Hank.Unfortunately, Hank doesn't take it very well.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor, Original Chloe | RT600/Connor
Comments: 16
Kudos: 19





	You Can't Help Everyone

**Author's Note:**

> Do not read this if you are uncomfortable with:  
> non-con (implied), rough language, internalized homophobia, betrayal, toxic and abusive relationships

With the last beer can tossed into the bin, Hank glanced at the clock. Six twenty-five. Just five more minutes before Connor showed up. Not a minute less, not a minute more. He would be here at six thirty sharp, and even if he was early, he’d wait at the doorstep until he was on time. Stupid android. 

His head spun as he sat back down with a sigh. His drinking? Worse, now that _he_ was gone. Just tidying this place up took four days in between countless beers. If Connor walked into the pigsty it was before, he would've spent the time cleaning. And watching him vacuum was the last thing Hank wanted to do.

He just wanted to talk. To see those big, puppy-dog eyes look at him with admiration as he took in every word. Connor was the only one who would ever listen to him. Because everyone else at the station considered him a senile drunk. 

But Connor always made him feel like he was more than that. Like everything could be right again. To see the good in androids and what life offered beyond dwelling on past memories of Cole. Connor gave Hank a future to look forward to, so he wouldn’t have to return to the past.

With each case they worked on, Hank grew fond of him. When he nearly fell off the building, Connor saved his life. An android actually cared… or maybe he was just saving Hank’s ass because he needed him around to accomplish his mission.

It changed everything. It changed how Hank felt for him.

His thoughts were interrupted by the ‘clanging’ sound of the doorbell and he gritted his teeth. The sound cut through his head like a drill and he cursed under his breath as he stood. Only after steadying himself did he walk over to the door. 

Right there on his doorstep - Connor. Gone was the CyberLife uniform. All he donned now was just a sweater and a pair of jeans, surprisingly casual in contrast to the perfectly tailored suit he wore ages ago. And not to mention, he was wearing sneakers. 

_“I want to try living on my own,” Connor said, on the final day before he left the DPD. “I’ll see if I can fit into society and live a normal life.”_

“Hello, Lieutenant Anderson—”

“Hank,” he interrupted, all too used to correcting Connor. 

Connor smiled. “Sorry, Hank.”

“Just get inside.”

He stepped into the house and shut the door behind him, looking around with curiosity. Back when he visited this place- well, more like broke in - he found Hank passed out on the floor. Now the place seemed more tidy but something was off. 

“Sit down. I’d offer you a drink but I remembered you robots don’t drink anything,” Hank said, sitting back down on the sofa. Connor did as he was told and sat right next to Hank though with a polite amount of distance. 

“It’s good to see you. How are you doing?” Connor asked.

Hank snorted. “I’m fine. Didn’t think you’d care.” 

The android blinked. “Of course I’d care. I always consider the wellbeing of people I’ve worked with.” 

“Doesn’t tell me if you give a shit or not.”

“I… give a shit, if that’s what humans call it,” he said, making a face. “I’m not used to using language like that. I try to keep things professional, even if I don’t work anymore.”

Of course he would. Hank looked Connor over and realized that no matter how casually he dressed, he’d always have that stoic attitude. Deviancy couldn’t take away an android’s basic personality. 

“I need a drink,” Hank muttered. Connor said something, but Hank was already in the kitchen and grabbing a beer from his fridge. He took a long sip after cracking it open. Dealing with androids was harder than he thought. 

Finally he returned the living room, where Connor looked at him with wide eyes. 

“Have… things improved, with your drinking habits?” 

Hank sat down and exhaled as he put the can onto the coffee table. He looked at Connor.

“What do you think?”

Connor hesitated. “I… do believe there’s improvement but you are still struggling. Is that correct?”

“Struggling,” Hank chuckled, “that’s a simple way to put it. Enough about me. Tell me where you’ve been.” 

“Oh, I’ve been… Well, I live with someone now.” 

Hank raised a brow. “Did someone take you in because you were living on the streets?”

“No,” Connor said, hardly noticing the jab at him, “I live with another android, and we share an apartment together. Her owner had a spare place so we moved in there.”

_Her_. Hank bristled. 

“So you two live together. Who's this?” 

“Her name is Chloe — you met her, she was there when we visited Elijah Kamski. She answered the door, remember?”

There was a vague memory of a blonde android answering the door. Hank couldn't remember her face. “Yeah.” 

“Well, we’re in a relationship.” 

The worst news came in the form of a visit that Hank had been looking forward to for so long. And now he just wished Connor never showed up. Never brought his cute ass into this house only to rub it in Hank’s face that he was seeing a woman. 

“You sure about that?”

“Yes… I am sure,” Connor raised a brow, “though you seem to be doubting me for some reason.” 

_Of course I would be. You acted like you wanted me the entire time we worked together._

“Just hard to imagine you dating someone, that’s all.”

The android relaxed. “I understand - keeping private life out of work is the usual protocol for humans. In any case, we’ve been together for a few months now. And I think I’m really… in love with her.”

He paused, contemplating something. 

“And I know it might not be of interest to you but… I just wanted to share it because it makes me happy. I love her.”

Hank said nothing and looked at the coffee table. _I love her_. Three words that seemed like utter horseshit coming out of Connor’s mouth. It made Connor happy, which was a good thing - but did it make Hank happy? Did Connor ever think about how he felt about it? A part of him knew that he should be congratulating Connor and supporting him. But it was hard to support something that made him feel so damn awful.

“Congratulations,” he finally said, “you have a girlfriend. Mission accomplished.” 

“I… take it that this bothers you, Hank?” 

“Not at all.” 

For once, Connor looked uncomfortable. 

“I’m worried about you. Have you been drinking more?”

_Nice girl._

_You’re right… she’s really pretty._

Hank balled his hands into fists and bit back his frustration. This was his fault, he had to go and say that about the blond bitch owned by Kamski. And now she had Connor all to herself. 

“Why didn’t you go after the one you could’ve shot?” Hank asked, ignoring Connor’s question.

“Oh— I… well, I have met her, but she isn’t interested in me, for obvious reasons,” Connor said. 

“What’re those reasons?”

Connor looked like he couldn’t believe why Hank was asking. His LED briefly turned yellow, as if processing how dense of a question this was.

“I… put a gun to her head. Nobody would be inclined to feel romantically towards someone who did that to them.”

“You know,” Hank said, throwing up his hands in defeat, “I just didn’t think you’d end up with a girl. That’s all.”

And one look at the android confirmed that. The clothes he wore were casual but they certainly belonged in the wardrobe of some gay guy, at least the ones Hank saw at various bars he went to but never had guts to go home with. It was far easier to just think of Connor and use his hand. Far more pleasant. 

“I understand that it’s hard to view me this way after we’ve worked together. But I am no longer your work partner, so it shouldn’t be hard to understand I have a life outside of the department or CyberLife.” 

“What do you get up to now? Have you slept with her?”

Connor opened his mouth to speak, his LED turning yellow again, but he shut his mouth and looked away.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant to our conversation,” he said. When he said shit like this, Hank could see right through him. And though Connor was programmed to be polite, it was obvious that he was sending one message to him - it’s none of your fucking business. 

“We don’t work together anymore. Like you said, we have lives outside of work. So I’m just asking you about yours.” 

Connor looked down at the ground as he spoke. “No, I haven’t slept with her. I don’t think either of us are very interested in that.” 

Hank chuckled, knowing he had this android in a tight spot. He drank from his beer again and set it down with a sigh. Connor still refused to look at Hank but one could see a faint blue tinge to his cheeks. Such a change from when they went to the Eden Club to investigate and Hank saw Connor staring unabashedly one of those male androids.

And that was another reason why he thought Connor would’ve felt something for him. Anything. He was an android programmed to be a detective, couldn’t he pick up on Hank’s feelings? And hadn’t Connor sent signals to him? Hank could go through the memories of them together and see times where he was sure Connor was putting out to him.

“No kidding. Don’t really think you’re the type to be into women.” 

There was a long silence after he said that. Connor was too caught up in disbelief to understand his old work partner was speaking to him so unabashedly about sex and insinuating that he was into men. 

“Though I was not programmed for romance, my sexual orientation is heterosexual.” 

“Then why were you showing yourself off when we worked together?” 

“Showing… myself off?” Connor furrowed his brows. His cheeks went a darker blue. “As in—”

“You were coming onto me all the time. Just didn’t seem like you were straight.” 

“I apologize if you were interpreting my behaviour as sexual advances, but I assure you that I was acting professionally and for work only. I do not have romantic feelings for you, Hank,” he said, then hesitated, but went on. “I… apologize if this hurts you. I was always under the impression that you were heterosexual.” 

Hank covered his eyes with a hand and sighed. For days on end he struggled with his feelings for Connor. He’d been married and had a kid, for God’s sake, how the hell would he ever feel something for a guy? Let alone a robot, of all things. But after endless days of being turned on in Connor’s presence and thinking of him every night, he’d come to accept the fact that he was gay. Or at least had something for a guy.

And he hated it. 

“I thought so too,” Hank muttered.

Another uncomfortable silence. 

Connor looked at him before speaking. “There is nothing wrong with being homosexual. If you need support, I am here for you,” Those dark brown, innocent puppy-dog eyes - they pissed Hank off to no end. Connor knew how much of a tease he was being, Hank was sure of it. Offering his support but not his companionship. The bastard. 

“Yeah, I need the fucking support.” He finished off his beer before throwing the can aside. It wasn’t fair. Hank spent so many drunken nights thinking of Connor and remembering their time together. The least Connor could do was feeling _something_ for him.

“I understand humans discriminate against homosexuals. But in reality, I cannot see an issue.” 

“You’re an android. Of course you wouldn’t see an issue.”

He shrugged. “There is nothing wrong with two men or women being together.”

The whole chat sent Hank reeling back to the Eden Club where they saw the two Tracis, two women, in love. Connor hadn’t shot them. But why? The event haunted him for days afterward, and when he met up with Connor that evening at the bridge, he’d brought it up. Just to see if there was any chance. Any single chance that Connor would have something to say.  
  
_Those two girls - they just wanted to be together. They really seemed in love._

_You seem troubled, Lieutenant. I didn't think machines could have such an effect on you._

When he said that, looking back on it, Hank wondered if he knew. And that moment he’d asked Connor what he thought he really was to him.

_I'm whatever you want me to be, Lieutenant. Your partner... Your buddy to drink with... Or just a machine... Designed to accomplish a task._

Your partner.

The whole chat was useless because he expected Connor to say something about those girls together. That maybe he had a personal connection with it. Hank could imagine him saying it - _I can relate to those girls, Lieutenant. I’m gay just like them._

But of course he wouldn’t. He wasn’t designed to say that. Or maybe Connor knew Hank wanted to hear it. And maybe he just wouldn’t say it because his sole purpose of being around was to tease Hank until he couldn’t handle it no more.

“For fucks’ sake,” he muttered, “we don’t work together anymore. So you can drop the act.”

Connor sat there with his LED now spinning a hopeless yellow. Trying to process these words - none of which made sense. 

“I am not acting. Is it something I’m doing that’s bothering you? Did you want to speak to me about it?”

Hank buried his face in his hands and the words came out muffled. “I’ve been drinking a lot.”

“I— beg your pardon?”

Hank looked up and glared at the cute face looking at him with confusion. It was hard to be mad at Connor. CyberLife designed this son of a bitch to be the cutest thing on the planet. Hank had the misfortune to fall for him. And CyberLife was cruel enough to make him straight. 

“I’ve been drinking a lot more,” he repeated. Connor understood now and his expression changed to one of concern. So genuine, to the point where Hank would’ve been fooled if not for that spinny thing on the side of his head. 

“I’m sorry to hear. May I ask what exactly got you into drinking more? Before I left, I remember you’d been sober for a while.” 

“That’s exactly what got me back to drinking.”

Connor frowned. “My departure? I didn’t realize… did it affect you to that degree?”

“Need another fuckin’ drink,” Hank cursed. But Connor put a hand onto his arm and stopped him from standing up. 

“Drinking won’t help what you’re trying to avoid, Hank. I think it would be far more beneficial to talk about this with you.”

Hank paused, then exhaled loudly and sat back down. He didn’t bother pushing Connor’s hand off and Connor kept it there. As if to comfort him. Or to make him feel worse - that this was the furthest of a touch he’d get. Maybe a hug if he was lucky.

“Yeah, you leaving made things worse. What was the point of going back to work everyday?”

Connor sat there as the words tincan, robot, and plastic ran through his mind. All of those terms used generously towards him when they worked together. And yet he caused him to spiral into this? 

“My presence… motivates you to go to work?”

“It also motivates me to drink,” Hank said, “I'd go to work and see a cute bitch like you everyday. But then I go home and drink because I know you're not going to let me do anything.” 

Connor winced at the term ‘bitch’ used towards him. “Hank, I would appreciate if you avoided using that term towards me. I do apologize, I didn’t realize this was how you felt.” 

“What, you don’t like being called a bitch? That’s exactly what you are. Bitch for CyberLife, bitch for DPD, you just won’t be a bitch for me,” he sighed. 

“To my understanding, a sexual relationship is extremely unprofessional and would have violated the terms of my contract when I worked at the department. I feel we had a good work relationship. I’m sorry if you got the impression that you needed to… have sex with me, in order to develop my trust.” 

“So do you trust me or not? Or am I just some old man to you?”

“Of course I trust you,” Connor said. He looked at Hank with brown eyes full of empathy. And it made Hank feel even worse. Didn’t know if this was real or not. This was even worse than Connor being cold. 

“Then you can cut the shit. Because every moment we were working together, I know how they programmed you. They made you so pesky because they knew how to push the buttons on an old man, and especially when they give you that fucking — cute face,” Hank cursed, growing rather emotional, “son of a bitch. You knew how I felt, didn’t you?”

The android stared at him. “I did not know - but I’m sorry, Hank. If I knew you harbored feelings towards me…” he trailed off. A prick of hope lit up in Hank’s mind.

“If you knew?”

“Then I would’ve made it clear I wasn’t interested in you that way.”

Of course. Hank lowered his head and stared at the carpet. 

“But I feel we can still spend time together as friends.”

“Bullshit,” Hank muttered, “we can’t.”

Connor blinked. “Why not?”

“What’s the point? It’ll just give you an excuse to keep teasing me.” 

“I’m not teasing you - but it’s… unhealthy to keep thinking this way. Is there any way I could help? Anything we can talk about that can make things better?”

“The way I see it,” Hank said, sitting back up, “we can only be friends if you help me. Friends help each other. If you’re not gonna help me then what’s the point?”

“Okay… so I’ll help. How exactly can I help? I do want to be friends with you, Hank. You mean a lot to me.”

Hank sighed at the look on Connor’s face. “I’m stuck here half the time and when I’m at work I can’t do jack shit. I’m too busy thinking about you.”

Connor frowned. “Oh… well, then, do you propose a solution to this?”

“Yeah. You help me out.”

“I don’t—”

“Sexually. Make sense to you?” 

The android tensed. He looked away and said nothing for a long time. And when he spoke, he still wasn’t looking at Hank. 

“I’m in a relationship. So I can’t do anything sexual with you.”

“You can be friends with someone while you’re in a relationship. It’s called friends with benefits.”

“It’s infidelity, Hank. I love Chloe. I wouldn’t do this, this would hurt her.”

“She doesn’t have to know. And all you’re doing is helping a work buddy out.” 

Connor looked at him but now he was conflicted. “I’m heterosexual. If I did anything with you, that would be homosexual behaviour - it conflicts with my programming.” 

Hank grew annoyed. “I’m not asking you to be gay. Just help me and this’ll be it. No need to call yourself a homo.”

What would Chloe say? Surely, she would support him if he was doing this to help him, right? Connor really didn’t know. He’d rather not know. 

“Okay. So what am I supposed to do then?” he asked, voice unusually quiet. 

“Come here.” 

Reluctantly, Connor moved closer to Hank on the couch. The man wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close, causing Connor to yelp. He couldn’t say much else because next thing he knew, Hank was kissing him, mouth to mouth. Causing Connor’s eyes to widen and his LED to turn red with alarm, then yellow with total confusion. He was kissing a man. He remembered kissing one person in his life, and that was Chloe. Her kisses were soft, gentle, sweet. Hank was different. He was rough, and unrelenting, forcing Connor to kiss him. 

He pulled away at the thought of her. “I can’t do this.’ 

“Just get it over with.”

Connor made a face but leant back in. This time, he was the one who started the kiss. That helped things - marginally. Nothing could change the fact that he was kissing the man he used to work with. A man who had a wife and child once upon a time. He could only gasp as he felt Hank slip his tongue into his mouth, instantly changing the tone of the kiss. From uncomfortable to even worse. A rough hand moved to palm at the front of Connor’s jeans, the touch sending all sorts of warnings into his programming.

He pushed Hank’s hand away but Hank broke their kiss to speak against his ear.

“Listen,” he muttered, “you help me and I’ll help you. Not that difficult of a concept. Got it?”

Connor shook his head. “I-I don’t need help, Hank. And I don’t know if I can help you anymore.”   
  
"Too fuckin' bad."

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote all of my previous stories and this one while I was under the influence of a certain drug. I don't know if I can go back to write like I wrote before. I have a fic I haven't updated in a very long time and I apologize about saying I'd update it. I don't think I can anymore. I just can't read what I wrote back then, it was all written during drug binges. You are welcome to take any of my work (even this one) and write anything with it. Go wild, I don't care what you do with it. 
> 
> I'm just marking this one as done but it was supposed to be a series involving Connor, Markus, Chloe, Hank, all these people. If you liked this fic and want me to continue, let me know, I can try. But I have serious memory loss from whatever I was on and am not good with details on DBH, so I apologize if this was too OOC. I felt bad just leaving it on my hard drive.
> 
> Thank you again for reading this far


End file.
